


40th Batch

by Cyberrat



Series: Fic Batches [40]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, Overwatch (Video Game), Stardew Valley (Video Game)
Genre: Ahegao, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Batches, F/M, Fisting, Glory Hole, M/M, Monsters, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Other, Past Abuse, Rape/Non-con Elements, Rimming, beastiality
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-05
Updated: 2020-10-29
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:35:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 18,813
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26833801
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cyberrat/pseuds/Cyberrat
Summary: ch.1 Hanzo/Donkey | ch.2 McCree/Hanzo | ch.3 Mercy/Roadhog | ch.4 Lúcio/Zenyatta/Monsters | ch.5 Shimadacest | ch.6 Shimadacest | ch.7 Sombra/Reaper | ch.8 Shimadacest/McCree | ch.9 Shimadacest/McCree | ch.10 Genji/Zenyatta | ch.11 Bruce/Jason | ch.12 Shane/Bug | ch.13 McCree/Reaper/Soldier76 | ch.14 Bruce/Jason | ch.15 Reaper/Soldier76
Relationships: Genji Shimada/Hanzo Shimada, Genji Shimada/Tekhartha Zenyatta, Hanzo Shimada/Sojiro Shimada, Jason Todd/Bruce Wayne, Jesse McCree/Genji Shimada, Jesse McCree/Hanzo Shimada, Lúcio Correia dos Santos/Tekhartha Zenyatta, Reaper | Gabriel Reyes/Soldier: 76 | Jack Morrison, Reaper | Gabriel Reyes/Sombra | Olivia Colomar, Roadhog | Mako Rutledge/Angela "Mercy" Ziegler
Series: Fic Batches [40]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1268996
Comments: 10
Kudos: 156





	1. Hanzo/Donkey; (McCree/Hanzo)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hanzo/Donkey; (McCree/Hanzo) – BEAST/IALITY TW; past abuse; budding feelings – Jesse frets over a kiss, then realizes he’s been an idiot.
> 
> Prequel: B39F1  
> Sequel: B41F1

Jesse takes longer than necessary to get back to Hanzo. Way, _way_ longer than necessary. He is obsessing over their goodbyes. Has been for days now. Weeks. He spends his evenings in bars, trying to drown himself in cheap beer so he will stop thinking about it.

How, in a sudden moment of insanity he had taken Hanzo’s cheeks between his palms and leaned in to kiss his forehead.

It’s innocuous enough, of course. He doesn’t know why he is obsessing over it so much. Why he can’t forget the weird expression on Hanzo’s face when he pulled away again, pretending like his insides hadn’t frozen over.

_He’s just a goddamn pony. What the Hell am I doin’? The guys’ve been right… I can’t deal with pet like ‘him. Too much of a bleedin’ heart_.

Oh well. His one week trip has become two weeks because of his crisis, and food will start to become scarce on the farm.

Whatever is Hanzo up to anyway without him there to keep him on his toes? Is it more cruel to leave him alone for so long without any human contact? Jesse groans and scrubs his hands over his face. In the end he’ll come there and Hanzo won’t even have noticed much that he’s gone at all. The li’l critter just is kinda like that. He thinks.

Hanzo doesn’t give much away of his personality, after all.

_That’s it… I’ll hit the hay and when I’m sober I’ll finally go back. Damned idiot fool, McCree_.

He rubs his face again, heels digging into his eye sockets to try and stop the picture of Hanzo’s weirded-out look as he’s pulled back after kissing his forehead.

He’s just a pony. A critter like the cows and the goat and the donkey they got.

What the Hell does Jesse care what Hanzo thinks of him?

.o.

He parks the truck behind the little house where it always stands, but when he jumps out onto the dusty ground, Hanzo is not hurrying to him like he usually does. There is a moment of dread where he wonders if the pony has finally seized his chance and run away while Jesse had been out running errands and getting money, but then he sees the animals outside.

The cows and goat look calm and well-fed, wandering around the premises without a hurry and tugging on the few blades of grass they can find. Jesse got some gardening equipment for trying to make the ground habitable for a better pasture.

He wouldn’t have figured that Hanzo would just leave the animals to die on their own; he’s too attached to them. But… where is he?

Jesse leaves the truck as it is and makes his way to the small house. Nobody’s in there; it is small enough to assess that fairly quickly, so… there’s only one other place that Hanzo could be, really.

Jesse makes his way to the ramshackle hut they have built together for the animals. Now that he looks again and thinks about it, he can’t see the little sturdy donkey anywhere. Maybe Hanzo is cleaning its coat inside, or checking over its hoofs. It would do well to finally give it some shoes…

Jesse has to walk past one side to get to the entrance of it, and sees motion through two of the wooden slats. He stops and peers inside.

Maybe Hanzo isn’t cleaning its coat or checking over its hoofs.

Maybe he is kneeling beneath the round, warm belly of the animal and trying to dislocate his jaw as he stuffs his throat with donkey cock.

Maybe that is what he’s doing while Jesse is out fretting over a goddamn little peck on the fucking forehead.

Jesse steps closer, bracing himself carefully against the wood while peering into the shack. Hanzo has not been idle while Jesse was gone. There are new partitions put up for the animals to give them their own little cubicles that they can feel comfortable in.

Like he needs a bit more privacy when he kneels beneath one of them to jerk them off onto his face.

He pulls back with a pop that Jesse can _almost_ hear. He’s seen horse cock before, and while the little donkey’s is overall smaller, it has the same flared tip that Hanzo seems to want to clog his throat up so desperately.

And to think Jesse has been afraid of that mean little mouth with those sharp little teeth…

Hanzo seems to know perfectly well how to use it. It looks for some reason even more lewd now that he is all groomed to perfection. He looks like he should be wearing a suit and sitting in some meeting; not be dressed in Jesse’s hand-me-downs, kneeling on a hay strewn floor and jack the cock of a donkey onto his face.

He has both hands on the shaft. Everything is glistening and wet. Jesse can just about see a tub of oil next to Hanzo’s knee, in danger of being knocked over. Hanzo does not seem to notice or care. His face is slightly flushed, lips plump looking from his earlier desperate suckling.

As Jesse watches, he leans in again, this time to lap at the flared tip as if it were a lolli. He even takes special care of the piss hole, tonguing it with a tender loving care that has Jesse’s breath hitch.

God, what he wouldn’t give to feel the li’l critter’s slippery pink tongue on his dick. Worshipping his balls. Making its way through the hairy valley of his crack to rim his hole.

Get him nice and going so his cock will be hard as diamonds as he spreads Hanzo’s thighs and rams into him-

The donkey moves restlessly, stomping one foot and throwing its head back. It makes a drawn-out wheezing sound. Hanzo does not move away. Jesse wonders if he does not notice… or maybe he just has the utmost faith in the animal to not kick and hurt him.

It’s not like he is holding the donkey hostage. It could just move away if it wanted to, but… what guy in his right mind would refuse a nice wet blowjob? Even if it was just a dumb animal, it seems.

Jesse is biting the tip of his tongue. He can’t even tell if Hanzo is hard… the li’l critter is still wearing his clothes as if he’d been in the middle of doing something when the lust for the animal just took a hold of him.

As he watches, the donkey throws its head back once again and wheezes another cry. Beneath its belly, its long cock is visibly pulsing in Hanzo’s hands. Hanzo pauses, mouth open, tongue out, staring at the flared tip. He closes his eyes seconds before it begins pulsing out thick ropes of cum directly over his face.

Jesse is pressing his palm against his mouth, trying to calm his breathing.

What a little slut… has he… always been this way? Or has the Gorge just broken him _that_ much?

Ah… it doesn’t matter in the end. He watches as cum drips off of Hanzo’s forehead right where he’s pecked him. He can’t say that it turns him off of the idea to do it again, though.


	2. McCree/Hanzo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> McCree/Hanzo – Alpha/Alpha; overstimulation; rut; slight pain kink – Hanzo likes all Alphas... he just likes McCree a bit more.
> 
> Prequel: B24F4  
> Sequel: B41F2

“Hey buddy.” Jesse throws an arm around Hanzo’s shoulders and pulls him against his side. Hanzo can smell the stink coming off of him, and while he would have broken McCree’s arm for the overly familiar touch just a few months ago, now he stops in his tracks and waits, carefully breathing to try and not make it too obvious how he is inhaling the stench.

It’s become so familiar that it is….comforting now.

“What is it?” he asks carefully. He does not want it to be too obvious that he enjoys McCree’s company, even though that is probably rather pointless now. Most of their team mates knew about him, after all. That he liked Alphas. A lot.

That he liked to spread his legs for them. McCree included, damn this ruddy old cowboy.

Jesse looks around a little, and, seemingly satisfied with the level of privacy, uses his arm to make Hanzo move around, nearly holding him against his chest. His eyes are heavy lidded like usual. He always looks bone tired and lazy.

“My rut’s comin’ up. Thought ya might want to lend me a hand?”

There it is. No beating around the bush with McCree. It is one of the qualities Hanzo enjoys about him – probably next to how he can fuck like an old truck.

“Lend you a hand…” Hanzo repeats slowly. Jesse grins one side of his mouth and grabs him a bit more tightly still, leaning in and kissing his forehead like he’s some kind of doting Alpha and Hanzo is his Omega.

Hanzo pulls a face and pushes him away with his forearm. McCree laughs low and rough. It sends shivers down Hanzo’s spine.

“Yup. Thought it might be fun. Unless you got others to play with?”

Hanzo sighs. He tries to be exasperated, but the easy way with which McCree mentions the other trysts he has regularly all around the base has him flush. He looks away.

“Don’t you rather want an Omega for that particular need?”

“Nah. You’ll be more than enough. If ya want to that is.”

Hanzo wants to. He very very much wants to. But he also doesn’t want to seem too… eager for it. He clicks his tongue and looks to the side.

“Hmm… I will think about it. When does it start?”

“Should be in about three days. Jus’ lemme know when ya made up your mind.”

Jesse claps his shoulder and lets him go to lumber his way down the hall. Hanzo stares after him, feeling a bit unsure. Had he heard a bit of hurt in Jesse’s voice? Hmmm…

.oOo.

_I’m glad you decided to come after all. Thanks._

McCree’s words keep repeating in Hanzo’s head, even though the cowboy is now far past any coherent thought.

Hanzo’s hole is fucked raw but he could not say that he minds, per se. He’s never been with a rutting Alpha – of course – but there is something wildly liberating about the experience.

Jesse had never been bothered by the fact that Hanzo needs artificial slick or that he always needs a bit more preparation than any Omega would… but now… now he _truly_ seems to not care.

He uses Hanzo like a toy. Not like an Alpha that is a slut for other Alphas; not like an Omega that helps him through a rut; no. He uses him like a _toy_.

McCree is strong, but in his mindless need he develops a strength that causes butterflies in Hanzo’s stomach. He could defend himself – probably… maybe… – but it would be a pain in the ass against the mulish strength that the cowboy has developed within the shortest amount of time.

He flips Hanzo around like he wants it. There is no question about what Hanzo would prefer; no hesitation to make sure Hanzo gets his part of the deal. Just a raw single-mindedness to fuck his seed into a warm body over and over again in the animal hopes that it will take.

The room reeks of McCree. Hanzo’s head swims. His body feels swollen like a wound, reminding him that he is not necessarily made to take Alpha cock like this.

He claws at the bedding, mindlessly trying to move… maybe even crawl away, but McCree’s arms around his hips stop any attempt before it can bloom into something more.

It’s not like Hanzo _really_ wants to get away. He just.. he just needs to _do_ something. He needs to move. His brain is sending out all weird and sometimes contradicting signals that have his limbs spasm every now and then while McCree lies like a heavy blanket over his back and fucks him like he is about to fall asleep mid-thrust.

He might be. It would not be the first time it happened during his rut. Hanzo tries to keep nice and quiet, maybe lull him into dozing off so he could scurry away into the bathroom and nurse his poor, aching body for a bit.

McCree does not fall asleep, though. He suddenly grunts and rears his head back up, shifting and moving until he is kneeling once more to grab Hanzo by the hips and drive into him so hard that he can’t help but hiccup with every bone rattling thrust.

He has no idea what is going on in the Alpha’s head. Whether there even is any notable thought to be detected. In any case, he can’t remember his own ruts very much. It is just a rush of sensation and need and the overwhelming knowledge that there is a warm hole on his cock that needs to be stuffed and filled.

He likes the thought that he is not more for McCree right now. That all he thinks of Hanzo is that he is a hole to be bred. Still, he winces when he feels the half-swollen knot pushing against his aching ass yet again. His rim is almost raw from fucking; McCree does not give off enough slick or has enough intelligence to think about squirting more lube into Hanzo every now and then.

It’s one of the thinks they both hadn’t really thought about when they agreed to do this.

When Hanzo agreed to do this. To let McCree use him as if he were an Omega.

The knot pops in and Hanzo grunts, the pain moving through his body like a slow wave. His thighs are shaking. His insides are protesting. He’s not made to do this marathon fucking, but… he wouldn’t have done it for anybody but McCree.

The others are good, too. They fuck him up well and let him have his fun, but McCree is just… different somehow. The big drunken fool has a special place in Hanzo’s heart.

So he lets him fuck him over and over again.

He’d keep agreeing to it any other rut as well.

This time when Jesse comes, Hanzo does too. It’s as slow and delirious as the pain spreading through his body. It’s a near afterthought, really.

There’s something… final about this. Maybe McCree’s rut has finally passed its zenith.

In any case, he sinks down on Hanzo’s back and presses him down into the mattress like the heavy oaf that he is. Hanzo lets him. He feels… too good to bitch about it.


	3. Mercy/Roadhog

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mercy/Roadhog – witch!Mercy; boar!Roadhog; rape tw; unconscious partner – Mercy thought she could train herself a minion.

“Here… try carrying this tray,” Mercy says on an annoyed sigh, pointing toward a simple metal tray on which she has put a small kettle.

Roadhog turns his head and stares at the tray, then at her. His hands are still bound before him by her magic and she is careful in keeping out of his reach. That fluttery little insect woman. The thick quill-like bristles along his back lift some as his hate towards her flares yet again.

“Go on,” she says with a busy little wave of her fingers.

He grunts and turns, reaching out and delicately grabbing the tray between his thick fingers. If he wanted to, he could do exactly what she told him to: carry it over to her work station and set it down delicately without jostling the kettle on top of it once.

As it is, though…

He lowers his arms until the kettle clatters to the ground noisily, then lets the tray fall down as well. He can see her temper rising. She does not have time for him messing up things, he knows that much. He might not be as intelligent as this flittery insect lady, but he is certainly not as dumb as she might be thinking.

He definitely can tell how to press her buttons. And how this time has been one time too many.

Her fine little face flushes red and she makes a low sound of frustration before grabbing her little stick that she used to bind his hands. She flutters toward him, snapping her twig against his forehead and cheeks.

“No! No! No! You need to be more _careful_! I can’t believe I have to deal with this when I could be making all kinds of _experiments_!”

Roadhog’s hands surge up. He grabs the twig too fast for her to even register what is happening and easily snaps it between his fingers.

Instantly, the lock around his wrists fizzles out of existence. He grabs her, relishing in her wide-eyed shock, and slams her down on the ground.

As the little insect woman is still dazed from the impact, he calmly hunkers down on her legs and grabs one of the wings at her back. He notices that they are not actually attached to her, but it does not matter.

He’ll make her hurt in different ways.

There’s no hurry as he rips first one wing, than the other, throwing them behind him toward the little cell she had kept him in. By now she has somewhat regained her bearings and is trying to defend herself.

He grabs her arm and bends it backward until she shrieks so shrill that his ears ring. He instantly stops, waiting for what she has to say.

“Don’t break it,” she sobs. He waits a bit longer, keeping her arm just where it is until she says with a whimper: “I will keep still…”

He lets go of her. She sags forward again with a groan, hugging her arm to her chest. As he hears her take a shuddering breath, probably to start saying anything else, he reaches down and grabs the ripped up little skirt she has been teasing him with. It only takes a slight jerk to make the fabric tear, baring her to his greedy stare.

Her ass is plump and her little cunt is shaven. As she shrieks again, shocked about the sudden cool air against her peach, he grabs her with both hands and spreads her cunt open wide with his thumbs. He grunts and shuffles back off her long legs so he can lean down enough to sniff at her.

Here, she is like any other cunt he has destroyed on his cock. Musky and a bit salty. When he drags his huge tongue through her gash and up between her ass cheeks he can feel her holes trembling in fear. She knows she is going to get them destroyed, and she is quickly getting panicked.

Music to his ears.

.o.

She had severely underestimated the speed of this brute. The burning ache of her arm slips to the background as he presses his round face against her pussy, his tusks digging into her silky skin. Angela wants to kick out but his huge bulk is keeping her pinned like a fly.

He snorts softly as he sniffs her like… like… like an _animal_ , just seconds before his broad tongue starts to drag between her labia, getting everything slimy wet with his saliva. She gags at the mere thought, but… but he also catches her clit and it sends a wave of prickling warmth through her. Against her will.

She had been so focused on her researches, she had not even paused to consider taking care of her body’s needs…

He licks her, snuffling and grunting like the pig he is. She had been so excited when she had found him in the woods… had she known what a pain in the neck the creature would be, she would have left him there, lazily rolling in the mud pit he had found.

Cool air hits her again as he pulls away. She can hear his labored breathing as he moves his heavy gut around, shifting and sitting back on her legs for a moment. Angela can feel her eyes wanting to pop out of their sockets as his massive weight is about to snap her bones.

He lifts himself again, but it is no reprieve, for the weight from her legs has shifted as she feels the massive girth of his cock against her pussy. Her mouth runs dry, heart skipping a beat.

“Nnno! No no no!” she shrieks, panicked, but his huge hands are on her shoulders now, holding her, even pulling her back on his massive pig cock, stretching her and stretching her until her body is stretched to its absolute limits. Just when she thinks she will tear in half, his crown pops into her, taking some of the intense pain away.

Her eyes roll up into her head.

.o.

She goes limp. Has she fainted? Hmm… doesn’t matter anyway.

He is breathing deep and labored as he frowns in concentration, rocking into her warm, tight body. Dominating her. Showing her that she can’t just drag him out of the forest and try to train him like a dog.

Sweat drips down his forehead as he works. It’s always a hassle with these tight bitches, but he’ll make it work. Her hole will be a gaping ruin when he’s done with her. Maybe he’ll piss on her too, just to drive it home before returning to his forest.

The little insect lady will have to think twice before dealing with him next time.

He has loosened her hole enough now that he is able to grunt fuck into her, rutting until he is starting to push her limp body over the ground of the lab she has put together. He’ll fill her up with his seed until it drips out of her nose. Maybe he’ll even knock her up… he likes that thought immensely.

Or maybe… he pauses, slowly thinking as he stares at the back of her blond head. Maybe he should take her with him… use her until she no longer interests him…

He grunts softly, nodding to himself – then resumes his work.


	4. Lúcio/Zenyatta/Monsters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lúcio/Zenyatta/monsters – monster cocks; glory hole – Lúcio and Zenyatta get payed to work a glory hole in a monster bar :)

Lúcio is pressing a hand to his mouth to stop himself giggling, but it keeps spilling out from between his fingers anyway. Zenyatta feels hot all over watching him bent over, his butt pressed against the partition of the toilet stall.

“Does it tickle?” he asks in a stage whisper, stepping a bit closer. He frames Lúcio’s cheeks in his hands, feeling how hot they are, while the other boy reaches out and clasps his slim hips to stay upright when whatever is on the other side of the thin wall gets more enthusiastic about what is going on.

The partition trembles as it bonks against it again and again. Lúcio’s giggling peters off all on its own, his cheeks seemingly getting even hotter.

“Ah…” he gasps softly, shuffling his feet as far apart as his pants around his ankles allow. Zenyatta licks his lips, then chews on them lightly. “Ah…!” Lúcio makes again, more of a moan now than just a hiccup of a sound.

Zenyatta would love to know what is happening. Maybe it is a tongue that has slithered through the hole… or maybe it is some really special kind of cock.

“Ah… Ah!” Lúcio’s mouth drops open and his eyes go wide as saucers. He lets go of Zenyatta’s hips and instead reaches beneath himself, holding his belly. His little sounds of pleasure become a mildly distressed edge to them as he lifts his upper body some, still holding his stomach like a kid that needs to use the bathroom.

Zenyatta hums, petting over his friend’s head, then crouches down in front of him. Lúcio’s hips are nudged away from the partition again and again with the force of whatever the thing on the other side is pushing into him, but he is also repeatedly pushing back into it.

He wants it. Whatever it is.

“Let me see?” Zenyatta begs softly, grasping one wrist and starting to urge it away from Lúcio’s belly. His mouth goes soft and open as he sees how it is bulging outward like a pregnant stomach. “Ooohh…” he sighs beneath his breath.

Down here, he can hear the wet sounds of the creature stuffing Lúcio and pulling in and out in the process.

Led by curiosity, Zenyatta comes even closer, ending with his head stuck between Lúcio’s legs, mouth close to his gently bouncing ballsack. It’s too dark here to see anything, but he likes the thick, musky smell and the warmth, so he stays right where he is while Lúcio braces himself on his back and gurgles from how much he is being filled.

There’s a hiccup and a groan. Zenyatta knows exactly what Lúcio sounds like when he comes, even if he couldn’t feel the hot spurts of it hitting his naked back. His insides must be doing all kinds of acrobatics too because the customer starts to pull back.

Zenyatta can just about see the end of a tongue whose tip is split into a thousand wriggling tendrils. Oh… oh, that is fun.

He tries to catch a glimpse of the monster, but it starts to move away too quickly. What a bummer. Lúcio is still shivering, trembling above him with his legs spread and his hole open and wet from the massive filling just now. Outside, the monster is moving with wet slaps that make it sound like it is far bigger than should be possible to fit into the room.

The door opens, letting in the sound of thick, thumping music before it closes softly and plunges them back into complete silence.

Lúcio lightly pats Zenyatta’s back.

“Lemme up?” he slurs. Zenyatta pulls back slowly, giving Lúcio time to right himself and make a few stumbling steps over to the toilet until he can sink down on the closed lid. His cock is still swollen, now lying in the crease of his stomach, the tip wet with the cum running down Zenyatta’s back.

“How was it?” Zenyatta asks interested, grasping Lúcio’s hands and holding them against his chest. Lúcio grins slowly. He looks drunk from his orgasm, head rolling back against the water tank.

“Intense…”

Zenyatta wants to ask more, but the door opens again. When the noise from outside cuts off, they can hear steps; slow and measured. The distinction and hollowness of the sound makes him think of hoofs.

The visitor moves to the side with the holes at various heights, making the fine hairs along Zenyatta’s arms stand on end. He is staring at Lúcio – and Lúcio is now staring to the side of him. After a moment those dark, orgasm-glassy eyes flick back to him, a drugged grin spreading on his face.

“Someone’s come to play.”

He is right, of course. When Zenyatta turns, he sees a somewhat daunting cock presented through their favorite hole. It is large and… moving, the shaft bulging out at random intervals and in random locations as if ghosts were trapped beneath the flesh, trying to push out.

Zenyatta comes closer, slowly folding himself into a neat little kneel that brings his face level with the monstrosity. The tip is bulbous as a human’s, the slit large and dripping. The cock is so big he feels like he’ll be able to wriggle his tongue into the hole if he tries enough.

The shaft keeps moving weirdly, holding his attention for so long that the visitor on the other side becomes impatient. They stomp their hoof and bang a fist against the partition, enough so to make Zenyatta jump and lean in.

He curls his hands carefully around the shaft, cheeks starting to grow warm when he feels the flesh pushing against his palms as if curious.

Bulbs appear and disappear again. He briefly glances to the side to Lúcio, and, seeing him nod at him with a delighted face, turns back to his task and opens his mouth wide.

They haven’t found a cock yet that they didn’t like.

.o.

His mouth is too small. He can barely play with the monstrous tip, but he gives his best anyway. The visitor seems pleased with it. At least they haven’t banged against the partition again. All they do is slowly fuck the hole, and by proxy the tight tunnel of Zenyatta’s hands, all while breathing deeply through what sound like huge nostrils.

Zenyatta lets his thoughts wander as he drools happily onto the crown, tonguing the wide hole in the tip.

He always tries to imagine their visitors. He wonders if this one would look like a minotaur. The thought excites him…

Lúcio is at his back just a few minutes in after he must have rested and caught his breath. Yet a few moments later, he is at his side, starting to join in on the play.

Their visitor seems to enjoy their two hot little mouths on his cock. It flexes between them, the bulging becoming more pronounced.

Zenyatta wishes he could get his hands on what had to be an absolutely massive pair of testicles.

He wishes he could dislocate his jaw to push the cock deep into his throat and down into his belly. He’d like to be a cocksleeve like that… but both their bodies have limits.

They are caught by surprise when the fat cock gives a jerk and starts pulsing out cum – they are even more surprised when it turns out the cum is nearly scalding hot.

Zenyatta stares at Lúcio when they kneel there, hissing and whimpering as thick rope after rope hits their torso, hurting like candle wax.

When their visitor leaves without a word, they turn to one another, kissing with needy little smacks, Lúcio’s hand on Zenyatta’s desperate erection.

Just another night of good and honest work… They earned their pay.


	5. Shimadacest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shimadacest – zoom verse; ahegao; delayed/denied orgasm; gag kink (no vomit) – Genji has managed to behave for a couple weeks... so Sojiro ups the ante. (cont in next fic)
> 
> Prequel: B39F7  
> Sequel: B40F6

Genji is trying his hardest. Hanzo can see it in the tight lines of his shoulders and the deep folds at the corners of his mouth as he bites his lips and tries not to blab in with quick remarks while father and his associates are having negotiations. He should be careful about that – lest his face gets all wrinkly. Though Hanzo might enjoy a more mature Genji as well… His brother is suited to so many kinds of looks. Not only the one of punk delinquent.

Hanzo stares at him, but it is getting increasingly more difficult to focus on the situation of his brother when father is so _deep_ inside him. It feels like he should be able to taste him in the back of his throat. His eyelids are so heavy, they keep sinking down as he braces his forearms against the table and lifts himself up from father’s cock until the crown starts to breach his hole. He savors the added stretch for but a moment before he has to sink back down again.

His thighs are well-trained, but he has been at it for the better half of an hour, and it is getting harder and harder to keep up with any semblance of rhythm. He wishes the contractors wouldn’t be so stubborn and would just concede to Sojiro already… It would be so much rewarding for all of them.

Every now and then, Genji’s dark eyes flick over to him. It does not register much, as he is the center of attention for most in the room – all except Sojiro himself, it seems – but as he keeps glancing back to his brother himself, it becomes more and more apparent.

This is some kind of midway test, Hanzo knows. Genji has been ‘allowed’ to stumble upon him servicing his father and guards – and the occasional maid – every now and then, but he has never been privy to such a blatant usage of his brother’s allures.

He’s never had to sit and wait with bated breath for when the atmosphere in the room would shift and Hanzo would be given over as a boon to complete strangers. Not family, not familiar underlings. Just complete strangers. A living seal to mark the occasion.

Genji’s anticipation is a balloon filled with water. Hanzo can practically see it in his gut, shivering with every small tremor; with every soft sigh and slick sliding sound that Hanzo can’t keep down as his hole works their father’s shaft. It looks ready to burst… and he wonders just what Genji will do when it eventually does.

He wonders if this is too much for his little brother. Maybe they have tried this too early… will Genji fall back on old habits? Go out with a limp in his leg to one of his little friends to fuck out the frustrations that have built up over the past two weeks of him being locked up inside; watching his pretty older brother get railed every kind of way; unable to help himself to that sloppy cunt so easily presented to anyone but him?

Hanzo shudders to think of it. He doesn’t know what he will do if he can’t have Genji soon. All he does is to work towards that single goal. His own younger brother’s cock sliding into him and warming his belly from the inside…

Sojiro must have felt his shudder. Maybe he thinks that he is close to coming (which he has been for a while now, making himself slow down whenever the tide rises dangerously high). Up until then he had been sitting there regally and with an expression of stone while dealing with the contractors sent by one of the neighboring families, not minding his son bouncing on his cock and shivering through near-orgasm after near-orgasm.

Now, he is framing Hanzo’s chest with both hands, fingers curling around his ribcage and splaying over his plump pectoral muscles.

The conversation peters to a stop for a moment. Hanzo can hear Genji’s sharp inhale next to them as he watches their own father play with Hanzo’s tits, fingers brushing over their stiff peaks before taking them between the tips of his fingers to squeeze them tight and pull on them.

Hanzo can’t help the gurgle bubbling from his throat, his head falling back and eyes rolling up. Sojiro easily leads him to lean back against his front. He does not stop playing with his chest, fingers plucking his nipples until they feel painfully swollen, every touch sending spikes of pleasure right down into his heaving belly.

His cock _aches_. It is so hard it stands straight up, swollen and flushed a dark cherry red all over. It looks ready to explode, and Hanzo is starting to go insane from the pressure that has built up in his abdomen since the meeting started and he’s squeezed his father’s cock into his guts.

His ears are filled with some shrill ringing. Usually he prides himself on being able to follow the proceedings of a meeting, no matter how hard he is being railed, but normally everybody is just focused on the butter soft slit between his cheeks… it is rare that he gets his tits fondled, nipples pulled on in a mind-numbing rhythm that makes him feel like Sojiro is trying to milk him.

He is going to come. He is going to _come_!

One of Sojiro’s hands is suddenly leaving his aching, tingling, ripe nipple and surges down between his trembling thighs. His tight, blood hot balls are gripped in a rough fist and pulled down hard enough that a wave of nausea surges through him. For a second he doesn’t know if he is going to come or puke, or both. His body grapples with the varying sensations until it finally follows Sojiro’s lead and calms itself back down some.

Hanzo could _sob_. He _hates_ having his orgasms ruined or delayed… his whole body feels hot and swollen, his cock aching so damn much…

Sojiro’s other hand clamps over his mouth. He must have made some noise, then. Maybe he’s babbled about being about to come and that’s why Sojiro has been so precise in pulling him back from the edge.

He doesn’t know… god, he doesn’t know anymore. His guts are filled with cock, and his body is howling from being denied his release.

A few seconds or minutes or hours pass, and Sojiro shifts his hand over Hanzo’s mouth to plunge two fingers between his lips, pressing down on his tongue and pulling his mouth open wider; showing him off like a horse on the market.

A third finger is added, and Sojiro slowly starts to fuck his mouth with them, pushing in deep and working long enough to make Hanzo gag before pulling back again. The pads rub over his tongue for a few seconds to let him get himself back under control, then he repeats the whole process.

Hanzo can feel his eyes rolling up into his head again, tears forming at the corners of his eyes and clear moisture dripping from his nose as father shows him off like a doll and has him nearly piss himself.

He can’t tell how long this goes on, but suddenly father pulls his hands away from him.

“Very well. It is a pleasure doing business with you. You may have him now.”


	6. Shimadacest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shimadacest – zoom verse; ahegao; spit roasting; jealousy – The brothers yearn for each other.
> 
> Prequel: B40F5  
> Sequel: B41F3

Sojiro grabs Hanzo beneath the arms and pulls upward until Hanzo gets the memo and starts to lift himself on shaking legs.

Genji tries to look like he’s not bothered by any of it, but he knows that he already failed. The four men around the table keep throwing him sardonic glances.

From the corner of his eyes he can see Hanzo standing on unsteady legs, his cock drastic dark shade as it stands painfully hard from his body, slightly bouncing in the air.

And he can see even more. Like Sojiro’s cock, still standing at attention, glistening wet as it arches unselfconsciously from his pants. Genji turns his head and glances up into his father’s face. It is, as always, stony and doesn’t give anything away.

Hanzo stumbles toward the first man – their leader – like a newborn foal. He’s grabbed by the wrist and jerked forward, but while he moves at first from the force of the tug, he catches himself and stops abruptly. Genji watches as Hanzo’s dark eyes narrow, gaze cold and calculating despite how red his cheeks are from getting fucked and brought to the precipice of orgasm.

The man pauses, his brows lifting in surprise. Hanzo looks disdainfully down at the hand gripping his wrist, and the man slowly lets go of him. As Genji watches, Hanzo pulls his arm back and rights himself as if he were some kind of king and not about to get his brains fucked out.

When the men around the table glance at each other and seem to understand just just _how_ this is going to go down, Hanzo moves again and slides onto the leader’s lap like water.

Beneath the table Genji has not been able to see whether his cock is already out, but Hanzo does not fumble with any clothes; he just kneels up and reaches behind him, thick fingers obviously curling around the man’s shaft to hold it still for him to sink back down onto.

Genji pulls his shoulders up to his hears, fingers slowly grasping tighter and tighter into the fabric of his own suit pants. His blood is boiling with jealousy, eyes burning as he doesn’t dare to blink and miss even a split second of Hanzo’s face starting to crumble again within mere moments of having a cock stretch him open.

He wants this to be _him_. He wants this idiotic… _trial_ to be over so he can grab Hanzo and lay him out on a bed. See him spread his strong thighs for his own little brother. Fuck him until he howls and claws his back open.

Genji digs his fingers deeper in until it aches so bad that it finally registers in his brain. He closes his eyes and breathes deeply, sitting back up and straightening his back. He forces himself to loosen his grip and tries to order his heart to calm down from its brutally fast pace.

As he sits there to try and relax, his ears are filled with Hanzo’s little sighs and the wet sound of a well-fucked cunt sliding along cock. That’s his brother. That’s what his older brother sounds like when he fucks a business partner for daddy.

The jealousy doesn’t flare as painfully this time, but it seems to spread throughout his body, crawling achingly into his limbs where it keeps simmering at a low burn that he knows will stay there for some time to come. It will be even more devastating than the immediate animal need of grabbing and fucking and claiming.

There’s a slight movement in the corner of his eyes. He turns his head stiffly like an automaton, staring directly into his father’s glittering eyes. Sojiro is still sitting there like a rock, back ramrod straight, hands curled loosely on his thighs. His cock is still out as well; proud and hard.

It is not his father’s dick pulling his attention this time… no, it is Sojiro’s mouth; a blink-and-you-miss-it smile curving the corners. As Genji watches, Sojiro tilts his head in his direction; the smallest acknowledgement that Genji’s suffering has been noticed and his restraint is appreciated.

Stiffly, Genji turns back forward to stare at Hanzo bouncing on cock. He has his hands braced on the low table in front of him now, eyes closed and brows pulled together like he’s worried. Worried about someone taking that cock from him before he can manage to come again. His mouth is hanging open, making Genji fantasize about how it would feel around him. Hot and wet and frightening, what with all those sharp teeth in there.

He knows how mean Hanzo can be, after all.

The others do not, though, and so one of them is already standing up so fast that he shakes the table, hands fumbling to get his suit pants open and his cock out.

.o.

Hanzo smells the cock first, then opens his eyes to see it right in front of him. The man has his hands at his sides balled into fists, obviously trying not to grab at him but making his demand very clear anyway.

Hanzo does not enjoy being manhandled from anyone but his father, so he benevolently opens up wider and tilts his head back.

The man groans softly and shuffles closer, managing to push his cock into Hanzo’s mouth and along his tongue without getting his hands anywhere near his head.

Oh… Oh, that is nice.

Their cocks aren’t as good as daddy’s, but he rarely finds one that he likes equally or even more. 

But… they are long and hard and warm and that’s enough for him to get off, really. He tilts his head even further back and leans forward to get a better angle and have the cock drag against his tongue. He likes how smooth they feel. How he can practically taste their pulse pounding through their bulging veins.

He sucks, cheeks hollowing out, lips sealed nice and tight around the shaft. From behind him, the other man is huffing as he leans back to brace himself as he starts to fuck up into Hanzo.

Ah… this is the life. This is perfect. Hanzo’s insides go molten hot and shivery again, his aching cock making his abdomen feel weirdly swollen. He’s going to come and it will not take much more to get him there.

Daddy has primed him for it so hard that he’s impossibly easy for it now.

“Shit… nice cunt…”

Hanzo gurgles softly on the cock slipping into his throat as he comes, eyes open yet unseeing as he goes cross-eyed and he only hears white-noise.

There are tears of overstimulation in his eyes, making it really hard to see. As he stares up at the man pulling his throat over his cock everything is so blurred that he really does start to look like Genji.

Ohh… Genji.


	7. Sombra/Reaper

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reaper/Sombra – halloween fic; dom/sub; scare kink; size difference – Sombra just wants to scare him :(.
> 
> Prequel: B39F2

Sombra knows for a fact that Reaper has to be in this old room on. She’s got the whole base bugged. There’s nothing she doesn’t know. His signal has led definitely to this room, but now that she sneaks inside she can’t see hide nor hair of him.

How does he _do_ these things? It is so _infuriating_.

She’s gotten herself all dressed up just to try and scare him for once, but now it seems that she’s done her hair up to no avail.

Frustrated, she pulls up a screen in front of herself and taps away, brows furrowed as she watches his dot appear again. Once it is in the very corner of the room, then it is suddenly in the middle, then completely vanished. Her skin breaks out in goosebumps, eyes flicking up despite herself to look in the direction the two beeps had been – even though she knows he isn’t there.

There is no way a hulking monster like him could hide away in the near empty rec room. Then how…?

The beep is suddenly back. It sounds painfully loud in the complete silence. Her attention snaps back to the virtual screen hovering in front of her, belly swooping in a very uncomfortable way when she sees that the blood red dot has indeed reappeared; and from what it looks like, it is _right behind her_.

Her breath freezes in her lungs, nipples involuntarily becoming stiff peaks pressing against the tattered white dress she had slipped into earlier.

The tiny hairs at the back of her neck slowly stand on end. The beeping does not vanish again. The dot stays there, steady and calm. Glowing a dangerous red.

Suddenly, her arms are grabbed and pressed to her torso, a shrill shriek of terror ripped from her before she can remind herself to keep her cool.

She is lifted up off her feet and immediately kicks her legs, trying to worm her way out of the grip.

“Calm the fuck down.”

The deep voice growling in her ear has Sombra stop immediately, heart still racing something fierce. While she tries to gather up her scattered wit, she is unceremoniously carried over to a dusty table.

“The fuck are you doing here?” Reaper asks calmly, putting her down on her feet. Sombra feels him let go of her with one hand, only to place it on her head and roughly push her forward, bending her over the table.

“... and the fuck you’re wearing?”

The hand stays on her head, keeping her pinned like a fly while he flicks her deliberately tattered skirt up, exposing her ass covered in opaque white tights.

“Stop that! What kind of creep does just-”

He grabs her ass, sharp talons pressing against her pussy through the thin fabric of her tights and panties. Sombra immediately stills, breath caught in her throat again.

“Shut up. Let me think…”

When that makes her snort, he grabs her by the hair and lightly pushes her head back down against the dirty table.

“Ouch!”

“I said ‘shut up’.” He does not sound sorry in the least. It should make her wet.

But it does… oh, it does.

She hears the rip of fabric before she feels the cool air of the unused room hitting her pussy. Immediately, she squeezes her thighs together, making a frustrated sound of protest as she does so. Her frickin’ _clothes_! Damn him!

“You came looking for me… probably to beg for a fuck, but… hmmm… why would you dress so idiotically?”

One long, sharp talon slowly starts to push into her. It makes the blood in her veins freeze, eyes going wide in terror. She wants to whimper and beg for him to not hurt her, but the fear that her disobeying his order again would set him off has her press a hand over her mouth. She stays completely still, feeling the cool metal spreading her walls, painfully aware of the sharp tip.

Reaper continues to talk as if unaware of her terror.

“Maybe you did not come for a dicking… at least not in the first place. So you came because of your little get-up.”

He pauses, then suddenly pulls the claw out of her, voice sounding less menacing and more exasperated as he asks: “Did you want to scare me?”

“...No?”

She has no idea if he’s even heard her as she’s squeaked it right into her palm. He scoffs even so, clawed thumbs spreading her ass, and in turn her pussy.

She wonders what the fuck he is doing, right until his cock knocks against her trembling pussy and drags the fat tip through her folds.

“That’s… cute.”

Sombra can’t figure out what that tone of voice is supposed to tell her. Despite his words, he sounds disdainful.

There’s no hand keeping her face pressed into the dust due to him needing it to spread her open, but she stays right where she is regardless. She can’t deny that while her heart is still beating fast from the scare, and cold sweat is itching along her hairline and down the valley of her spine, she is now completely focused on the big fat dick nuding against her opening.

He’s not pushing in, though; just putting pressure on her until she just starts to stretch around the glans before pulling back again.

Sombra dares to glance behind her. She can’t see his face, he’s wearing his mask for some reason. God, the asshole looks so _scary_ like this. Huge and dark and menacing, his claws digging into the squishy flesh of her ass cheeks until she can feel a couple trails of blood trickling over her skin.

Eventually he makes a single sound, “Hm.” and seems to snap out of whatever thoughts he’s had.

“Fuck yourself on me.”

It is a simple enough order. Part of her wonders what would happen if she were to refuse, but she honestly is glad she hasn’t peed herself during any of the events in the last fifteen minutes, and she doesn’t want to push her luck.

She does keep watching him, though, peering over her shoulder up to him as she shuffles her feet just a little apart to brace herself for the wide stretch. Her toes curl against the cold ground. She’s not wearing any shoes.

She arches her back when the tip finally pops in, mouth dropping open – but he stands there like a statue, not moving a muscle. If she couldn’t feel his inhumanly hot cock sliding into her as she squirms her ass, she would think that he’s not alive.

“There you go. Good girl.”

The unexpected praise has her turn her head away and into her arms, eyes closing. Her cheeks pound almost as hot as her poor pussy stretched to its limits on his dick. Getting it from behind makes him feel even bigger than the last time. It numbs her brain.

He is relentless, not getting swayed by her gurgling or whining. He stays where he is and doesn’t move. He really makes her do all the work.

She’s never had to… she’s never had to _do_ this stuff. It usually is enough for her to spread her legs and the boys will just go wild. This is worse, and simultaneously better than that.

Her snatch is burning from the stretch; she can’t blame anybody but herself for that. He’s just so… so _big_ -

He grabs her by the scruff like a kitten. There’s no warning, no explanation, no nothing. Just him suddenly seizing her and holding her and snapping his hips to drive into her body until she feels like he’s buried himself right into her uterus.

Her eyes pop open wide, a scream stuck in her throat as waves of an almost brutal orgasm crash through her.

Somewhere in the midst of the chaos consuming her body she can hear his deep voice whispering insidiously: “Better luck next time, señorita.”


	8. Shimadacest/McCree

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shimadacest/McCree – stink kink, hypnotism, non-con/dub-con, rimming – Genji pays his due for being allowed to fuck his brother. (Continued in next fill)
> 
> Prequel: B39F4  
> Sequel: B40F9

There’s not much to talk about. The situation is quite simple, really.

Hanzo is a dumb bimbo for the time being, and Jesse and Genji are equally as hot for the possibility of assaulting him.

Of making him assault _himself_. Whatever that means.

Jesse stares at his dick in Genji’s hand, the tip exposed to the aig of the changing room. Hanzo is just below that, still trying his damndest to suck one of Jesse’s unwashed nuts into his wide open mouth, gurgling in the process.

The only thing that he kind of regrets making Hanzo is stupid little marionette is the fact that there is no gag reflex to be seen. Making the prissy bitch almost vomit while licking his armpit or sucking his sweaty balls would have been the cherry on top.

“So? What do you say?”

Genji sounds breathless next to him. He’s been hovering so close to Jesse’s face, he’s sure he’s vying for a kiss. He keeps him hanging for a bit longer, though, slowly but surely taking the reigns back in hand.

“You wanna fuck your bro?”

Genji exhales a warm little puff of air directly against Jesse’s cheek. He’s shifting a little on the bench, practically kneeling on it now. He’s short like his brother, but not quite as stocky. He has a more slender built that Jesse can also appreciate. Very much, even.

“...Yes.” The admission is so soft, Jesse would have probably not heard it if he hadn’t felt the breath.

In Genji’s hand, his cock is filling out just a bit more. Veins are swelling angrily along the shaft. He can feel his strong fingers curling around him just a bit more tighter… so he has noticed as well.

“I see you like the thought,” Genji whispers immediately. He has to pause every now and then just to pant like a dog in heat, the silence filled by Hanzo’s lewd suckling sounds. “What do you say, McCree? You’re getting everything you want, don’t you? Hanzo being an obedient little bitch… me eating your swampy ass… and two actual brothers fucking… It’s a dream come true, isn’t it? I know it is… I know what kind of perverse freak you are.”

Jesse can’t help but laugh at that, low and breathless. He finally reaches up, large hand curling around the back of Genji’s head and neck, thumb slowly rubbing against the hinge of his jaw.

“I ain’t the only pervert here, though, am I?”

They stare at each other. Genji is flushed, his eyes glittering with mischief and greed. Jesse sometimes can’t believe just how plain gorgeous both brothers are.

Instead of giving him a proper answer, he pulls him in for a kiss. It’s surprisingly slow and indulgent; a lazy drag of tongues, Genji panting into his mouth as he claws at Jesse’s shoulder, and Jesse sitting there steady like a rock.

A king on a throne while two beautiful men appreciate everything his body has to offer.

“Alrighty then… get offa me, you slut.”

He pushes Hanzo’s head away like one would do to an overly affectionate cow. Hanzo sits back on his heels and stares up at him with an expression that shows that there is no thought going on in that pretty head of his.

Jesse lurches up from the bench with a grunt. He grabs Hanzo by the scruff like a kitten and drags him around until he is kneeling in front of the bench, and Jesse can easily cage him in between the wood and his body.

“Ah yeah… perfect height,” he drawls as he curls his big hand around his big ruddy cock and lifts it to point at Hanzo’s mouth. He’s always known it, really. Shimada is made to fuck. That he would vehemently deny it had only fuelled into Jesse’s obsession with him.

Genji is still kneeling on the bench, watching as Jesse gets one foot up on the edge of it, free hand grabbing Hanzo’s hair to hold him nice and still as he smears the tip of his cock over his brother’s mouth as if it were lipgloss.

He feels frozen to the spot staring at Hanzo’s face, eyes so glassy as he opens up wide on command and lets McCree shove his unwashed dick across the silky pink sponge of Hanzo’s tongue.

He knows, intellectually, that he had kissed Hanzo. Back when McCree used the device on both of them.

He just wishes he could remember…

“Hey,” Jesse grunts, voice gone even deeper than usual. It has lost some of its smoothness in the process. Genji looks up at him, insides burning. “Thought ya wanted to pay for playin’ with him…”

Oh. Oh yes he does.

He slides wordlessly from the bench and comes to kneel behind McCree. Like this, his knees are almost touching those of his brother. His heart races, but he can’t tell if it is from the prospect of getting to make out… no… getting to fuck his brother, or from spreading McCree’s ass and getting to work.

Or maybe… or maybe it is the thick stench of sweat assaulting him. With McCree’s foot up on the bench, his ass has opened up. Genji is staring directly at the dark crack, the fur there wet from Jesse’s workout sweat.

Gabriel had always been on McCree’s balls about personal hygiene. It never did stick.

McCree is moving his hips slowly. He is starting to fuck Hanzo’s throat – Genji can hear the slick slide. The soft click whenever the massive glans passes through the tight glottal space.

He can see McCree’s heavy sack swinging with the movement. It’s hypnotizing. He lifts his hands and grabs the hairy cheeks of the cowboy, spreading them wide.

Above, McCree groans low when the air hits his wet crack – then chokes on his own tongue when a split second later Genji is there, pushing his face in and getting to _work_.

“Holy _shit_ ,” he grunts, one hand curled around a metal railing to brace himself for the onslaught of two warm, greedy mouths on him front and back. Where Hanzo is more passive, waiting for instructions and placidly following along, Genji is a lot more pro-active.

Oh… Oh, he wants his brother _bad_. He wants to make Jesse see stars so he’ll let him have his bitch of a big brother all for himself. Jesse can respect that in a man.

And he definitely can respect Genji’s greedy little tongue worming its way through the thick fur without hesitation; searching… searching until it finally hits gold and can lave all warm and wet and toe-curling over Jesse’s hole.

He honestly doesn’t have to move himself after that. All he has to do is keep bracing himself while Genji seems to try to crawl head first into his goddamn ass, pushing him deeper and rougher into Hanzo’s throat with every passing second.

It’s not long until his balls hit Hanzo’s chin, and his pubes are suffocating the prissy asshole.

“Fuck… fuck,” he keeps chanting low and vicious, body humming from a greedy tongue in his ass and a hot cocksleeve around his dick. His balls are churning, magma sloshing inside them. It feels like it, anyway.

He’s about to come, and the fun hasn’t even properly started yet.

“Fuck… fuck! Genji! S-Stop!” He fumbles behind him until he can grab the short, black hair and wrench Genji out of his humid crack.

He looks back, and, seeing Genji’s dazed face nearly comes anyway.

“Fuck… fuck, alright. Come on. Come on, it’s time to fuck your bitch of a brother up properly.”


	9. Shimadacest/McCree

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shimadacest/McCree – double penetration; spit roasting; hypnotism; dub con/non con – They finish :)
> 
> Prequel: B40F8

“Lookit him takin’ it like a champ. Lookit him!”

McCree’s voice is cracking a little with excitement, and honestly he sounds a bit crazed right now. Genji can’t fault him for it. He keeps telling him to look as if he had been able to take his eyes off of Hanzo since they started spit roasting him.

He’s got his dick in his brother. He’s got his dick in his brother’s mouth and is able to push it in until he can suffocate him on it all. Hanzo is looking up at him whenever he brushes a hand over his forehead and grabs the top of his head to lightly tilt him back for it.

His dark eyes, usually maliciously glittering marbles, are bottomless holes. He’s not really using his tongue but he is drooling liberally. He’s completely braindead and Genji has never seen anything hotter.

McCree is behind Hanzo, riding him like a goddamn ape. He’s balanced on his feet, lording over the helpless man in a mating press. He can’t help dragging his broad hands over his back; chasing the metal one with the warm palm of the other. Just… compulsively touching him while he keeps getting off on how damn easy it was to squeeze his dick into him.

“Takes it like a champ,” Jesse whispers again. His mouth is hanging open. He looks almost as braindead as Hanzo and he doesn’t have the excuse of the little device fucking around with his brain and unplugging it somewhere.

To be fair, Genji doesn’t think he looks much more intelligent right now. His balls are churning. He feels nauseous with how badly he wants to shoot his load down Hanzo’s throat. He wants to know, even if this is a once-in-a-lifetime occasion, that once upon a time, Hanzo has had his little brother’s cum warming his belly.

It’ll be something he’ll be thinking about on his death bed, he is sure. A last happy memory that’ll put a smile on his face. He can’t help but giggle. The thought of Hanzo just _taking_ it is as hilarious as it is hot.

McCree either doesn’t seem to hear his stupid snorting or he doesn’t care. Maybe he can sympathize with it all. He seems completely blitzed from how butter soft Hanzo’s hole had been.

He’s ordered him to take it like a whore, and Hanzo’s body just _complied_.

There has to be more about the whole thing than just the device. Genji can’t wrap his head around it otherwise. Hanzo’s throat is clenching around him, holding him nice and snug even though his blowjob expertise leaves something to be desired.

McCree drives into him like a man possessed, but Hanzo does not react like he feels it.

“McCree,” Genji rasps as he slowly pulls back to see his brother’s spit glistening on his cock. “Do you think he’d make noise if we told him to?”

Jesse looks up. There’s sweat dripping from the tip of his nose. The stench he exudes is making Genji feel a bit faint if he is being honest, but it also gets his cock flexing something nice.

“Yeah… yeah probably… why?” he rasps. He’s now grabbing on to Hanzo’s hips something fierce. It’ll probably leave bruises. Genji is not sure what Hanzo will think about those once his brain goes back online.

(Though he also doesn’t know what he’ll think about his hole being tender and aching from a big ruddy cock spreading it open and reaming it meanly.)

“Wanna… wanna try it out? Give it to him double? Make him scream?”

McCree stares at him with bloodshot eyes, his face slack from exertion. He then looks down at the butter soft rim stretched around the base of his dick.

“You mean…”

“Yeah. Exactly what you’re thinking.”

“Shit, Genji… Buddy… C’mere, let’s do it.”

It’s weird finding a position, and the changing rooms aren’t really the most comfortable of places for this shit, but eventually McCree is lying down and holds Hanzo to his front so Genji has all the access he can get.

He pauses to just admire the view for a bit. McCree’s cock is darker than the rest of his body. It looks… honestly a bit scary with how massive it is. Genji remembers vaguely how he had knelt between the American’s legs, lapping at the monster with Hanzo. It had been nice playing with it…

“Come on,” Jesse wheezes. “Dunno how long I can keep it together…”

The fit is not as easy as it had been when Jesse pushed in all on his own. As Genji pushes carefully, brows furrowed and lip firmly between his teeth, he can hear a soft puff of an exhale coming from Hanzo when the ridge of his glans _finally_ pops past the wide stretch of his hole.

Sweat is beading along his hairline. He feels like he is starting to go cross-eyed, but…

“Did he just-”

“Yeah… yeah… seems like even braindead bimbos can’t just take two dicks… damn… holy damn, Genji-”

“Yes… yes, yes,” Genji babbles. He knows exactly what McCree is about to say. The tightness… the heat… the feeling of another cock pressed up so intimately to his own. He has to close his eyes and just take deep, calming breaths. His balls are churning again, magma roiling in the swollen testicles. He clenches every muscle trying to hold on and not shoot his load already.

Dull in the background he can hear McCree’s deep voice telling Hanzo that he can make sound. That he, in fact, _should_ make sound.

Will it work? Will they even last long enough to find out? Genji is bracing himself on Hanzo’s back and wonders if he’ll die of a heart attack even before that. He is breathing through his clenched teeth, heart pumping a mile a minute.

When he finally has the slightest semblance of calm he starts to move. McCree, thankfully, is not in a position to do so himself. He doesn’t think they would have lasted then. As is, Genji is the one slowly dragging his cock both along the ruddy dick already lodged deep into Hanzo’s guts, as well as against the squishy, hot walls.

Hanzo makes a sound, but it is neither a roar nor a scream. It sounds more like a… squeak, really. A wheeze. As if the air was being let out of a toy, but Genji can’t really fault him for it. He’s never had two cocks at once…

Nobody is saying a word. McCree’s face is brick red. He looks like he is holding on by the skin of his teeth. Genji can’t see Hanzo’s face, but he can see how he is digging his nails into McCree’s hairy chest even though the hypno-device had made sure that he doesn’t move a damn muscle without being told to beforehand.

As he stares at Hanzo’s glossy black hair, it suddenly hits Genji what he is doing.

He is fucking Hanzo. He really and truly is fucking his older brother.

It’s enough to finally make him lose it. McCree seems to follow along simultaneously. He doesn’t even want to know how pitifully short they had managed to hold on to their orgasms.

It doesn’t matter, really.

He’s had sex with his brother. With his _ani-chan_.


	10. Genji/Zenyatta

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Genji/Zenyatta – secret recording – Genji has a lot of thoughts about Zenyatta. Most of them revolve around how he needs to keep the memory of him even when he will inevitably be dumped.

“Genji? Everything alright?”

Genji startles enough to almost drop his phone. He peers over to Zenyatta sitting on his bed, looking… well… _zen_. He always does. As Genji watches, Zenyatta’s eyes squint like those of a cat as he starts to smile.

He’s naked but acts like he doesn’t know about it. His endless patience is something that turns Genji on more for some reason as if he were openly slutty.

“Ah, uh… yes. Yes, of course.”

Zenyatta stretches his arms out to him, hands open, long fingers spread apart.

“Then come.” It’s as much a request as it is a demand.

Genji inhales deeply and puts his phone down, carefully balanced against a video game console. He sees Zenyatta’s gold-brown eyes briefly move toward it, but if he realizes that the positioning is weird or knows Genji hasn’t turned it off, he does not say so.

Still, Genji’s step slows when Zenyatta looks back at him, guilt gnawing at his insides.

“What are you waiting for?” Zenyatta croons, his long fingers doing a funny little wiggling motion to get him to come closer faster. It’s what is so… endearing about him. How calm and patient and dignified Zenyatta seems but always does these unexpected little things that are just… funny. Cute.

Genji feels hot all over as he comes to the bed until his shins hit the edge of it. Zenyatta immediately presses his warm palms against his belly. He looks like he should be small, for some reason, but he is long and his hands are big, palms able to press over the whole of Genji’s stomach to warm it.

Zenyatta is looking up at him, face smooth and tranquil, eyes squinting again in that cheshire cat grin when Genji gently brushes a palm over his bald head.

He lets his fingers dance down over Zenyatta’s ear before cupping the side of his jaw, thumb tracing over his lips. Heat flares in his gut when Zenyatta easily opens up and lets him pop the digit inside, the pad of his thumb gently pressing down on the silky, squishy tongue.

“Alright… I’m here now. You ready?” he murmurs, still very aware of the phone behind him recording all of this. He just… He needs this for safekeeping. So he’ll have something to look at and know that he didn’t just make this all up. That Zenyatta really is just _like that_.

At least that’s what he’s telling himself.

Zenyatta hums, slowly closing his lips around the base of Genji’s thumb to lightly suckle on it. One of his big hands twists and slides down, curling around Genji’s slowly filling cock and holding it in his warm palm.

Fuck… Fuck, it seems so dirty having Zenyatta do this. It never gets any easier. It feels like he’s dirtying up something sacred… but that only gets him going even more.

Because he’s a goddamn freak and enjoys making Zenyatta do all these lewd things. And watch him be so eager und unselfconscious about it.

“Lie back,” Genji orders, voice gone a bit raspy. “And hold your legs up.”

Zenyatta’s eyes flash at that. He looks intrigued, slowly pulling back from Genji’s thumb and leaving it glistening wet with saliva. He scoots a bit back on the bed, then lies down, lifting his legs without a second thought and curling his arms around the backs of his knees. He folds himself up into a neat little package in just a couple seconds, taking Genji’s breath away.

Goddamn Yoga.

Zenyatta peers at him around his knees.

“Is this what you wanted?”

Genji’s breath hitches. He looks down from Zenyatta’s naked feet swaying in the air to the sweet slit he exposed between his cheeks. Just above his taint his soft balls are peeking out from between his skinny thighs.

“Fuck,” Genji whispers. Zenyatta just quietly smiles again, then moves his legs, curling an arm around each knee and spreading them far in one smooth motion; laying himself out for Genji’s viewing pleasure and without an ounce of shame.

“Or this?”

Genji clenches his jaw tight. He kneels on the bed and crawls closer.

“I wish the others knew how _lewd_ you are,” he whispers almost angrily. He leans down and opens his mouth wide, sucking one of Zenyatta’s balls into that warm, wet space. A second later he lets it pop back out again, fingertips gently tickling his hole. “They think you’re this innocent saint or something…”

Zenyatta is now openly laughing at him, his brown cheeks flushing.

“And you don’t?”

Genji groans and leans down. He takes his fingers away and replaces them with his tongue, lapping at Zenyatta’s hole like a man starving. Everything on Zenyatta is so smooth and soft…

In the corner of one eye he can see the toes of his foot curling while he gently pushes his tongue against that supple little muscle, urging it to let him in.

He curls one hand around Zenyatta’s cock meanwhile, slowly pumping it to hardness. It is, like its master, long and slender and _gorgeous_. He stares up along Zenyatta’s hairless torso, watching him watch _him_ as he laps at his hole eagerly, testing its give every few seconds as he tries to push deeper inside.

“You’re… ah… you’re so eager-!” Zenyatta arches his back, not able to quite finish his thought. Genji is pressing his thumb against his glans, drawing tight little circles over it until he can feel moisture slicking the way.

He pulls back with a lewd slurp.

“I just can’t help it… You look so good like this,” he rasps, hands brushing along the insides of Zenyatta’s spread thighs. What little hair he has is silky soft against Genji’s callouses.

He doesn’t think he said anything particularly funny, but Zenyatta laughs at him, letting go of his legs which stay spread even without him having to hold them, and reaches out for Genji.

Before he knows it, he has been gathered into Zenyatta’s arms, hugged to his chest, Zenyatta’s lips against his forehead and legs curling around his hips.

“Come now… don’t leave me waiting,” Zenyatta murmurs into his hair. It’s… so easy to just slip inside him.

It’s like coming home in a way that Genji has never felt before. Zenyatta is so easy to get along with… he feels so good around him. It makes him wonder, even as he gently works his hips and slides in deeper and deeper while being held in the warm embrace- it makes him wonder how long Zenyatta will stay with him.

He does not think that he deserves him. He doesn’t think _anybody_ deserves him, really.

At least he’ll have the video…

One of Zenyatta’s skinny arms slips up and curls around his head, clutching it against his chest, low moans so close to Genji’s ear that he can practically taste them on his tongue.

“Genji…” Zenyatta whispers, insides clenching down wet and warm on Genji’s cock; Zenyatta hugging his whole body as Genji slowly rocks inside him and sets his nerve endings ablaze. “Genji… slow… just like that… don’t let it end…”

He trembles beneath him. He always begs for it to last as long as possible but he’s so very easy to orgasm…

It does not matter. Genji can give it to him twice. Thrice. As long as he needs to.

He sets his face in determination. Zenyatta grabs his hair and uses it to pull his head up, kissing him, slipping him that teasing little tongue until Genji’s world spins and all he knows is to keep fucking that silky little hole clenching down on him.

When Zenyatta pulls away he doesn’t know what to do with his mouth other than keep kissing him; his chin, his cheek, his ear… making it easy for Zenyatta to whisper against his own: “I wish to see that little video later…”

Genji flushes hot with embarrassment.


	11. Bruce/Jason

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bruce/Jason – somnophilia verse – no somnophilia; consensual rape/rough sex; tearing; bleeding – Jason gets what he wants. So does Bruce. Somehow this ends amicably.
> 
> Prequel: B39F8  
> Sequel: B41F12

“I _knew_ it! I knew you’d be like this!” Jason’s voice is rough but fierce, his hands gripping Bruce’s hips in a tight, bruising grab. If Bruce had wanted – _really_ wanted – he could have fought this whole process every step of the way. Maybe even overpowered Jason who only knows how to fight from his years on the street and a few lessons Bruce has given him in the past.

But he does not fight it. His face is mashed into the rumpled sheets, a continuous low groan spilling from him like tar. The pain from his dry, stretched hole crawls up his spine in a hot wave. He’d known it would hurt, but this… it is _intense_.

He doesn’t know how he could have ever slept through Jason doing this to him in the first place. He must have been completely relaxed in his sleep. Or maybe he had been awake for much longer than he was comfortable admitting even to himself…

“I knew it years ago,” Jason continues after a few seconds of him just breathing and catching his breath, beads of sweat on his forehead, staring down at the desperately stretched muscle. It’s not easy squeezing his cock into B, even though he is being completely docile about it. It burns like a motherfucker… Jason kind of gets off on the pain these days, though. “When I smelled the perfume of a lady for the first time coming home… and I knew you’d have her in your room, fucking her like a bunny…”

Bruce’s breath hitches. His fingers curl into the sheets until he is hanging on to them so hard his knuckles ache. Jason is changing his grip, leaning forward and slapping one palm into the back of Bruce’s neck, pushing down roughly to keep his face mashed into the ground, as if he had made any move to get up.

It has the added bonus that it makes breathing a lot harder. Dark points dance in front of Bruce’s eyes and he tries to remember with a functioning corner of his brain how to slow his heart down to get through this.

“I snuck to your room, you know. And I listened. Had a hard-on the whole damn way through your stupid mansion just thinking about the things you two would be gettin’ up to…”

Bruce’s eyes are open but he’s not actively seeing anything. His brain is full of Jason’s words, thinking about that scrappy, angry teen standing outside his door. Listening to his exploits. Shame twists in his guts but is dissipated by a renewed jerk of Jason’s hips, digging his cock deeper into his intestines. Making the pain flare up all new and bright and breath taking.

“And all I heard… all I fuckin’ heard was _you_. Moaning like a slut. So eager you were wheezing. An’ I knew… I knew before peeking through the keyhole, that she’s fingering your ass. Do you remember her face? Their faces? When they went all amused and indulgent as you fucked them and they stuck their pretty fingers in your fuckin’ tailpipe so you could get off?”

Jason is still leaning over Bruce’s back, holding him by the back of his neck like a wet kitten and pressing his face into the sheets. He listens to him gurgle – maybe in protest, maybe just because Jason is starting to pump his hips. He just needs to finally start to _fuck_ him. He needs to drag his cock through that desperate hot muscle, even if it is just an inch in and out.

He needs to give it to Bruce once and for all.

“I’ve known it all for years,” he gasps on a wet little sob, pain and pleasure coursing through his body and making it almost impossible to grab a proper thought flying around in his head. He clenches his eyes shut, nails digging into the skin of Bruce’s hip. He just has to focus… he just has to focus on _fucking_ him. _Destroying_ him.

Jason shuffles his legs around until he can brace himself better. It starts to become easier to drive into Bruce whose usually deep voice has started to become high-pitched and whining.

It’s fascinating what taking a big fat cock dry can do to a man.

The sweat beading along Jason’s hairline is starting to drip down his temples. His awareness shrinks to that one hot point of friction as he humps Bruce with more and more ease.

Bruce’s wheezing is morphing into low pig-like grunts. Jason takes his hand off his neck and braces himself next to his head; ranging over him like a dog as he mates him, hips slapping against Bruce’s ass until he realizes that there is something slicking the way.

His brain feels overheated as he forces himself to sit up again and stare down, watching in dumbfounded amazement how there is blood now liberally smearing the way, clinging to the shaft of his cock and making it so much easier to drive deep into Bruce’s guts.

“Oops,” he says breathlessly, a huge smile spreading out on his face. “Seems I tore something… You don’t mind, do you?”

Bruce wheezes, his head slightly moving to be able to peek behind him at Jason. He does not say anything. He does not make him _stop_.

All he does is clench weakly around him like a _slut_ , waiting for more. Waiting for Jason to keep driving himself into his innards and destroy him good. Make him feel it for days. Weeks. Think of him when he has to go to a doctor and be the big _Bruce Wayne_ that is treated for tearing of his sphincter…

Jason can’t help but bark out a laugh, head falling back, hips starting to move faster. He has one hand on the small of Bruce’s back, fingers splayed, lust coursing through his body as he keeps fucking him, the blood so smooth and slick as it eases the way and gets everything nasty and sticky.

Halfway through riding Bruce like a bitch, Jason leans forward and plucks the drive out of his lax palm. He looks at it while he keeps giving it to B, his balls starting to ache, churning with an orgasm that he’ll pump deep into his guts.

This all went… so much better than expected. He’s got the drive and he’s even got to fuck Bruce again. On his goddamn request. It is a dream come true.

Bruce grunts like a pig again when he suddenly comes. Jason wouldn’t have noticed if not for the trembling and clenching of the walls around his throbbing cock.

“You’re a fucking slut, B,” he jeers, hand coming down on Bruce’s ass in a hard slap. “You can contact me next time you need a fuck. I can give it to you. Make you into the pig you are.”

Bruce just whines all high and reedy. Jason takes his hand away and stares down at the imprint of the drive on Bruce’s ass cheek.


	12. Shane/Bug

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shane/Bug – bug sex; oviposition; orgasm denial – How far down the ladder do you have to be to get your orgasm denied by a bug?
> 
> Prequel: B39F9  
> Sequel: B41F11

Shane couldn’t stop thinking about the eggs in his intestines. He couldn’t stop thinking about the feeling of them starting to move down, his body working to expel the unusual intrusions. He couldn’t stop thinking of squatting behind a few scraggly bushes and pushing them out one by one while the whole Valley seemed to somehow have to walk past the grocery story _just at that moment_.

He wants it again. He needs it again. But not exactly like last time, of course. That nobody has busted him had been an absolute stroke of luck that Shane isn’t confident in replicating.

As a rule, Shane is insanely unlucky which probably feeds into his obsession with that one crystal clear moment of deep, enjoyable lust. Listening to Sam babbling about some inane guitar riff he managed to pull off while Shane’s ass was opening up to push out another of the eggs from that morning… it had been enlightening.

The mines are a scary place, but Shane is suitably confident that he can deal with the first few floors.

He just needs… he needs a _thrill_ far away from prying eyes. He needs a fool proof way to get fucked and filled with eggs and feel like he has no choice in the matter throughout.

The mines are a good way for that. His insides clench and tremble when he climbs down the ladder and can already hear the meaty hum of one of those huge green insects down below. Shane already is working on his belt with a trembling hand while awkwardly trying to get down only with one hand.

It doesn’t work, of course, and so he has to climb the last few rungs with his ratty jeans slipping down his ass and his cock swinging in the cool, damp breeze of the caves. It’s undignified, but so is the rest of his life, if he is being honest.

At least nobody sees him down here. Nobody but the occasional slime and big emerald green insect. Just who he wants…

He doesn’t have to try for it, either. Monsters are a lot easier than humans. He doesn’t have to ask and negotiate or try to awkwardly get them to notice how goddamn horny he is for a breeding.

The bug he’s heard on his way down is practically buzzing right around the staircase. Maybe it has sensed him, or it is just going in circles like a moth around a lightbulb. He doesn’t care. What he cares about is that it is already close and up in his business when he gets his boots on the ground.

The bugs in the cave are not aggressive. They just like to do their little rounds and do their stupid buzzing, and this one is no different. It is obnoxiously right up in his grill, proboscis extending and touching his cheek carefully. It’s just checking him out and trying to figure out if he got any nectar or some shit, and the thought makes him bark a laugh.

_Hey, yeah, I got some nectar for you!_ he thinks hysterically as he waddles around and spots a large rock not far off. He can hear the bug following him, the fast beat of its wings causing a gust of wind to tickle against the back of his neck. It’s not unwelcome.

The insect either knows what he is going to do or is just curious. In any case, it catches on quickly once he puts himself over the rock and sticks his naked ass out into the cool cave air.

His heart is beating hard and fast, eyes flicking nervously around to see whether there isn’t a monster in hiding anywhere. Around a corner he can see a green slime peeking at them, it’s contours wobbling like gelatin. Shit. Shit and fuck, he gets hard from a slime. Are they cool and jiggly inside? Or nice and warm?

He digs his nails against the stone. The insect is buzzing around him some more. He can feel its proboscis touching one of his hairy cheeks, then slipping into his crack. There’s a hysteric bark of laugh stuck in his throat as he wonders whether it will actually try to get nectar from him, but when it touches the wet, loose rim of his ass it seems to get the memo of what this is about.

It lowers itself without shame, its legs curling around Shane’s hips. It makes him aware all anew just how _big_ those goddamn things are. The gust of wind from its impossibly fast wings is ruffling his hair continuously.

When he feels something big and warm slipping searchingly between his cheeks, he wishes he had brought a mirror or something. He’s never watched these bug creatures mate… He’d really like to see how it is done, but fuck. Fuck it is not important. Not right now.

The bug is not losing time. There are no sweet whispers of nothings, no anxious questions for consent. No kisses no cuddling, just _fucking_.

It just wants to put its eggs into Shane, and that is the hottest goddamn thing he’s had in a while (other than… you know… shitting out some eggs in the middle of town).

There’s not much movement above him, but there is a lot of it _inside_ him. Whatever the bug is shoving into him, it is surprisingly fat and tapered as far as he can tell. He grunts, booted feet slightly scrabbling against the floor. The… cock inside him is pulsing thick like one of those tentacles in the hentais he sometimes watches when he is pretty sloshed and bored.

It is also pretty warm. He closes his eyes briefly and lets his head hang down, just focusing on the feeling of the insect fucking him, his cock swollen and dribbling fluid down the side of the rock.

It’s not the only fluid, though. There’s some starting to drip against his taint and down his balls as well. He’d like to somehow stare through the rock and see what is happening. God fuck, does he really have to invest in a bit of recording equipment and haul it down into the caves??

The buzzing of the insect is between his ears, making his brain feel too swollen for his skull. He tries to buck up against it but the creature is just moving with the motion since it is just sitting on him, so there is nothing to be gained on that front. Shane is just doomed to stay there and try to get off from being pumped full of slick and weird bug cock, and he can’t do anything about it.

When whines in frustration and lifts his head again, sweat dripping from the tip of his nose, he sees that the slime has come out of hiding. The amorphous mass is far enough away to not worry him, but it is also just… staying there. Wiggling.

There are no eyes as far as he can tell but he can’t help the feeling that he is being watched. That this stupid cave slime is staring at him getting fucked by a bug and _judging_ him somehow for it.

He grunts when he feels slick, oblong eggs starting to fill his body. They don’t feel as hard as the chicken eggs had… His cock flexes, his balls churning. He is so close to coming-

but just when he tries to figure out how to scrabble down and grab his dick, the bug suddenly pulls out.

“Wha?” he slurs. “Shit, no! Stay!”

It doesn’t, though. It’s done what it came to do, and Shane can only helplessly watch it buzz away down the corridor and around the corner, leaving him dripping pre-cum and slime, belly full of its eggs.

Unsatisfied and riled up.

The slime just wiggles. He can’t help but feel that it is laughing at him.


	13. McCree/Reaper/Soldier

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> McCree/Reaper/Soldier – A/B/O; Alpha/Alpha/Alpha; werewolves; double knotting; voyeurism – In an A/B/O universe, Reaper and Soldier have been werewolves for a while. Jesse has been one for not too long but they already taken him in with their pack.

Jesse is slowly prowling the perimeter of the small enclosure they locked themselves in, but it is not easy to not keep constantly staring at Jack and Gabriel mating in the middle without a care in the goddamn world.

They don’t mind the cameras pointed at them sneakily from the canopy of the trees, or the fact that there are fences clearly visible all around them. He supposes they’ve been at it long enough to have built an immunity to being embarrassed. They already were wolves when entering SEP. They’re used to doctors prodding and poking and watching. Jesse can’t quite get over it, though. He has his tail curled self-consciously between his thighs ad he keeps prowling, trying to hide the erection that has long since slipped from his sheath.

He’s hunched over, walking on two legs, his stump cradled awkwardly against his chest. They haven’t developed a prosthetic for him yet; he supposes it is not high on the bucket list with him having come relatively new into the small two-wolf pack they had going. They’re more interested to watch their dynamics… like him having to wait his turn while the older Alphas fuck.

Their scent makes his hackles stand on end. He tries not to stare but he can continuously see them in the corner of his eyes; Gabriel’s form on top of the unusually blond wolf beneath him, their maws snarling at each other. Gabriel’s tail is wagging as he keeps riding Morrison. Even if Jesse didn’t know that they’ve been mates for a very long while, and that their snarling really is more laughing, the tail would have been a dead giveaway.

He wishes that he weren’t the last in the food chain. He wishes that he could join them already and just give over to the feral beast gnawing in the back of his head. He wants to forget the cameras watching them, and the greedy scientists behind them that are just as horny to watch the huge beasts clash and fuck as they are for the precious data they receive.

Gabriel has started licking at Jack’s snout. Jesse pauses and just watches them. Their ears are perked. Gabriel is sitting on Jack’s cock like it is a throne. The scent is driving Jesse wild… 

He’s never been too interested in other Alphas before, but now… fuck. Fuck, he knows, or he thinks he knows, that him being so attracted to them is just him looking for a place to belong now that he is a werewolf, but-

They smell so goddamn good. He starts to prowl closer, the snarl of the beast in his head beginning to overpower everything and make it hard to think rationally.

The older Alphas are watching him but neither is making him back off. They seem to be waiting for something as Jesse keeps prowling, the circles he draws around him growing tighter and tighter.

Jack is turning his head now to keep watching him, seeming not particularly bothered about Jesse being this close when he is mating with Gabriel. They really don’t seem to care about privacy…

Gabriel is leaning forward now, bracing himself with his huge paws next to Jack’s head, claws digging into the soil of the artificial little transformation chamber that Overwatch has put together for them. Jesse will never be able to completely forget that they are not out in the open. The lack of real moonlight is simply too obvious, but when the other two Alphas are in a mood like they are now, it really doesn’t matter too much. His attention is occupied with their scents. Their bodies. The wet sound of Jack’s cock in Gabriel.

It’s when he is behind them and Gabriel coquettishly lifts his tail that his brain just seems to… stop for a moment. When it onlines again – somewhat – he’s got his nose stuck beneath that tail, sniffing and licking at the stretched rim and the pale canine cock moving inside it. Up close like this he can see all the delicate veins running just beneath the thin skin of Jack’s erection.

The potent Alpha smell is hitting him right where he can physically feel it curling around his brain and suffocating any higher thought processes.

He needs the hole. Now. Needs it, needs it, needs it!

Gabriel throws his head around and snarls as Jesse mounts up, but he does not try to really chase him off. With Jesse being short one arm it would be child’s play to make him loose his balance and topple to the ground, but Gabriel lets him brace himself on his broad back and awkwardly fuck his cock between their bodies, slip sliding against Jack’s cock and Gabriel’s sheath as he tries to somehow find a way in with no hand to spare.

Someone helps him. If he had two braincells to rub together, Jesse’d know that it must have been Jack, but like this he doesn’t worry about it and he doesn’t care, quite frankly. All he cares about is bracing himself on Gabriel’s back as he lets his hips pump fast and ruthlessly to force his way inside the fever hot body.

Beneath him, Gabriel grunts, his ears swivelling and lying down flat against his head.

Jesse doesn’t mind. He’s inside now, sliding against the heat of Jack’s cock and somehow managing to force fuck his way deep into Gabriel’s belly with the help of his claws digging into the soil and offering him something to brace himself against.

Jack says something but Jesse can’t understand him. It’s difficult to think in human ways when he is finally able to fuck fuck fuck, his blood boiling and his muscles trembling with anticipation.

Gabriel is stiff between them, snarling but still not bucking to try and get his younger lover to mount off. Soon he won’t be able to do anything much against it anyway. Jesse can feel his knot wanting to swell. There’s no embarrassment about how fast he comes. No second thought to try and pull out, especially when he feels Jack’s knot snuggled tightly against his own. They’re both gnashing teeth and drooling whenever his sensitive swollen base rubs against Jack’s.

Gabriel between them is just panting, his tongue hanging out of the side of his maw… right up until the moment that he seems to realize what is going on.

“...Jack!” he yelps as if Jack is responsible for Jesse losing his control. As if there is any way now that they could stop or that Gabriel could pull himself off of their cocks.

He moves a bit as if to try anyway, and Jesse snaps his teeth a breath away from the back of his neck, shoving him down harder with the paw he has on Gabriel’s back. He squishes him against Jack’s front while he digs his claws even deeper into the soil, forcing himself in, knot expanding along Jack’s swelling cock…

Gabriel is howling, trembling beneath them. There’s the sharp scent of urine as he starts to submissively piss himself while his hole gets destroyed by his two mates.

Jesse howls with him, but in triumph, body coasting on endorphins as he pumps Gabriel full and all his muscles go nice and loose. He can smell a bit of blood too but that only adds to him feeling nice and smug about the whole thing.

Gabriel won’t let them mount up again any time soon.


	14. Bruce/Jason

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bruce/Jason – Part 1 of 2 – established but new relationship; kink negotiation; mention of fisting – Jason is a lot more kinky than Bruce thought but they’re both very bad at talking.
> 
> Sequel: B41F9

Jason is never too vocal during sex. Neither is Bruce, to be fair. He just wishes it was different; that he didn’t have to gauge Jason’s enjoyment from the shade of red his face has gotten as he is getting pounded into the mattress, his legs hooked over Bruce’s shoulders.

Bruce stares down at him until Jason seems to become uncharacteristically shy and turns his head away. His insides are soft and squishy around Bruce’s cock, muscles clenching down on him trembling and needy. He shifts his angle minimally and is rewarded with Jason’s mouth falling open.

It’s not like Jason is a blushing virgin. It was his idea in the first place to get folded up like this so Bruce could fuck into him as deep as possible. It had also been his idea to get it on in an alley just as people were getting home from their jobs; squatting over the filthy ground so he could stuff his throat with Bruce’s cock.

It had _also_ been his idea to get a ball gag and a riding crop, both lying on the bedside table as they have not been in the mood for those tonight.

Bruce is not a very… adventurous lover, and for the fact that they’ve only been an item for the better part of three months, he finds himself frequently wondering what was still lurking in the depths of Jason’s mind.

He slows his movements somewhat, dragging out the slide of his cock along Jason’s insides until even Jason can’t keep quiet anymore. He pulls in a short breath through his teeth, then whispers _fuck_.

“Yes?” Bruce rasps, trying to become a bit more vocal himself. Maybe it’ll tease Jason out of his shell. “That good?”

He pulls back slowly until he can feel the tight, desperate clench of Jason’s rim around the tip of his cock, trying to keep him from pulling out completely.

“Shut up,” Jason grunts, but there is a small smile on his face. He reaches up an presses his palm over Bruce’s face. “‘N don’t lookit me.”

“Why?” Bruce muffles against the palm, hips suddenly snapping to drive himself back into Jason who makes a _sound_ ; a high-pitched wheezing sort of thing seemingly shocked out of his system by the sudden fullness.

“I need to… I need to concentrate,” he grits out breathlessly.

Bruce, intrigued, begins to move faster. “On what?”

Jason doesn’t answer for so long that Bruce thinks it won’t happen at all as he moves in a fast, pumping rhythm now, sweat springing up along his hairline. The pap-pap-pap of his hips hitting Jason’s ass is sending electric currents up his spine and hooks onto something very primal in the back of his brain.

“On keepin’ quiet… fuck… _damn_ ,” Jason groans, arching his neck and pushing his head back into the pillow. His throat is starting to flush the same shade of urgent red of his face. Bruce watches in quiet fascination Jason crumbling down in real-time before him as he keeps pounding into him, spreading his intestines around his cock again and again and _again_.

Bruce doesn’t need to say a thing; he can just watch the whole thing unfold as Jason unravels and starts to babble more and more.

“Don’t stop! Jus’- just like this… k-keep it up, _fuuuuck_ ,” he groans drawn out. It sounds like some kind of dark incantation coming out of him, if Bruce is being honest. He’s never been good at following orders from others – unless it is in the bedroom. He can’t deny Jason anything. Not after everything that happened between them.

So he keeps at it, sweat starting to pour down his face, a drop occasionally gathering at his nose and dripping onto Jason’s throat as he keeps babbling low and indistinct.

Every now and then a few words become more clear, and Bruce’s body burns with the shame and arousal of it all.

“ _Fuck_ my hole, goddamn it-

Ri...right there… fuck… destroy me-

Squeeze my balls, please- make it _hurt_ , oh God-”

His voice breaks every now and then. Jason starts sounding a bit whiney on top of his babbling… like he is close to breaking out in tears as Bruce keeps ramming into him, pushing the both of them along more and more until he can feel an orgasm tickling his balls and his toes curling. He holds on to it by the skin of his teeth, tears springing to his eyes.

He needs to keep it in… he needs to hold on until Jason finally explodes. He’d never thought that this well of _filth_ is hidden inside the boy, he’d never-

“God- _Fuck_ me, put your fucking _fist_ inside me-”

Jason has reached up, pulling at his own hair, restless and out of it, voice a bit slurred with how he is folded up into a neat little package. At the last bit of filth that has explosively bursted out of him, he goes very still.

There’s a rush of blood in Bruce’s ears, deafening him as he stares down at his erstwhile protegé, eyes wide, mouth hanging open.

Jason looks horrified and like a bucket of ice water has been dumped over his head, but Bruce… shit… shit he can’t hold on any more. He clenches his eyes shut, teeth gritting painfully as he rams into Jason one last time and explodes, stars bursting behind his closed eyelids.

He basks in the feeling until he becomes aware of Jason repeatedly hitting his shoulder, trying to get his attention. His body is hot and sluggish, cock still spasming inside the warm body. Of course he can be up and running, firing on all cylinders if the situation required it, but right now Bruce finds it hard to coordinate even opening his eyes to look what the damn Jason is on about. His head is blissfully silent except for the static noise filling it like foam – right until he sees Jason’s brick red face and his wide eyes.

“...What?” Bruce says slowly, tongue feeling a bit numb.

“Let me get up,” Jason rasps, not quite looking at him. He looks humiliated, and it takes a while until Bruce remembers what Jason had said just before he’d come like a freight train. What kind of indistinct image has been swimming around his mind without him actively realizing it.

He can feel himself wanting to flush as well, but tries to stomp down on the reaction.

Bruce slowly pulls out of him, taking care not to be too fast about it. He notices that Jason’s erection has softened somewhat but is not completely gone. Jason immediately twists to stretch his legs out and start to flee, but Bruce has been anticipating it. He grasps his ankle, not letting him get away.

“Let go of me, asshole.”

“No. Why are you like this suddenly?”

Jason isn’t answering. His ears are practically glowing with embarrassment. Bruce can feel the back of his neck starting to flush but he does not let go of Jason.

“You don’t need to be embarrassed.”

“Oh?” Jason says sarcastically. He looks back, hectic red dots appearing on his cheeks. “You’re full of shit. Let go.”

“No. Because I’ll do it.”

Jason freezes again. He stares at him with his eyes narrowing. He looks like he is not trusting Bruce which… stings, but he puts on a mask, trying to seem a lot cooler about it than he actually is. He doesn’t know what he’s doing, really. Only that the mental image of putting his fist in Jason’s ass is… stupidly appealing.

“I’ll do it. I’ll fist you.”


	15. Soldier76/Reaper

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack/Gabriel – old men; reunion; angry sex; stuffing; belly bulge – Gabriel wants to re-enact one of their favorite things and Jack doesn’t keep him from it.
> 
> Sequel: B41F10

Jack grunts when Gabriel slams him into the wall, but he can’t see his face twisting in pain with that stupid goddamn visor of his. He reaches out, claws digging into the machinery until he can hear it crack and fizzle before he rips it from the old Soldier’s face. He needs to see him. After all those years of thinking he is dead – he needs to see Jack’s godforsaken face.

Jack’s lips are pulled back in a snarl. Gabriel notes absentmindedly that there is a scar slashed through them.

“Open your eyes,” he grunts when he can’t properly look into them because of Jack squinting them together as if Gabriel weren’t right in his goddamn face. “Open them!” he snarls and slams him once more into the wall when the old Soldier doesn’t obey fast enough.

Jack does, staring at him full of hate that starts to slowly melt into indifference. His eyes look cloudy and grey; no longer the painful blue of their youth. He’s almost blind at this point. Gabriel looks over to the visor discarded like trash on the floor.

He twists his mouth into a grim grin, hand coming up to curl around Jack’s throat. He holds him pinned like an insect as he leans in and slams their mouths together in a harsh clash of teeth that rattles right down to his toes. It’s not surprising that just seconds later he can taste blood.

Jack grunts in surprise but he’s not fighting it. He reaches up, hands digging at Gabriel’s armor to find purchase. It slowly dawns on him that Jack might _want_ this. Gabriel pulls back and stares at his face. Jack looks… exhausted. Old. Like he’s given up.

Gabriel’s stomach twists, heat burning in his guts. He can’t even tell if it is anger and hate and self-righteousness or just that old undying affection flaring up once more.

He twists his mouth into a snarl but it only holds for a second or two before he exhales, shoulders sagging slightly.

“You knew. You knew it was me.”

“I only suspected,” Jack responds. His voice seems even deeper and more rough. He sounds like he’s been through Hell; that, at last, has anger flaring up bright and bitter once more. _Gabriel_ has been to Hell! Jack has no goddamn business sounding like this.

He grabs him and pulls him around, roughly slamming him onto the moldy mattress he has going in lieu of a proper bed.

“Since when?!” Gabriel snarls at him. Jack is holding on to his biceps but still not fighting the rude treatment. He shakes his head, squinting at Gabriel, the corners of his mouth pulled down in that way that Gabriel knows means he is trying to not cry like a fucking toddler.

“Just the other day. In the desert.”

Gabriel grits his teeth, but fuck… fuck, Jack smells still like he’s done all those years back. From all the things that have changed, and how old they’ve gotten… That it would be Jack’s smell that would persevere hits him weirdly hard in the gut.

He leans forward, pressing first his face, then his mouth against Jack’s throat. He wants to bite him until he can taste blood, but instead he just smears hectic kisses against his skin, legs moving to force Jack’s knees apart and find his space between them.

“You fucking bastard,” he rasps. Jack moves but before he can tell what it is he wants to do, he digs his claws in warningly, keeping him nice and at bay. Jack stops wanting to curl his arms around him and slowly puts them down on the mattress.

“Yeah…” he murmurs softly, eyes closed.

“You goddamn fucking _asshole_ , Jack Morrison.”

“Yeah,” he admits again. Gabriel bares his teeth, letting go of him and instead grabbing his belt. He makes short work out of his pants, his movements becoming faster and more hectic. He is sitting up, staring down, watching as he spreads Jack’s legs and lifts them up for him.

He thinks of all the plays they’ve done when they were younger and before everything went to shit.

Jack is panting now, his cock half-hard; staring up at Gabriel. He watches as Gabriel lets his gloves vanish into silky whispers of smoke, though he’s not certain just how much Jack is actually _seeing_ of it. He reaches down between Jack’s cheeks, pressing his fingers against his hole.

“Well, Jackie?” he rasps in a dangerous purr. “How many guys did you fuck to drown your sorrows?”

He’s so tight. He mustn’t have any in quite a while. Jack closes his eyes and tips his chin up, offering his throat.

“None…”

“Liar,” Gabriel hisses, though he is getting a bit unsure. He snarls again, lifting his palm and letting smoke swirl on top of it until it forms a dark, dense ball. “You remember this, Jackie? Those gelatine eggs I used to stuff you with? Make you squat in the shower and press them out for me again?”

He is crooning low and sweet, like a lover. It has the desired effect: Jack’s ears become a spectacular shade of red. This, too, seems to not have changed. The farm boy still flushes laughably easy.

“Yeah… yeah, I remember…” Jack growls, then moves his legs even farther apart. Offering himself up. _Wanting_ this.

Gabriel’s upper lip lifts but he can’t make himself snarl. He notes a bit dully that he is… charmed despite himself. God, he’s thought he’d never see this stupid bastard ever again…

“Ask me for it,” he says softly. Jack obeys without hesitation.

“Gabe… I… missed you so much. Please…”

Gabriel’s face twists, anger and pain flaring. He reaches down, starting to press the ball of smoke into Jack’s tight hole. It’s easy; the mass can just push through the tight clench of muscle and reform behind it.

Jack reacts immediately to the alien sensation of suddenly being filled despite not having gotten his hole stretched any. He whines long and drawn out, his back arching.

Gabriel remains quiet, staring at him. He produces one more dark, dense ball of smoke which he feeds into Jack’s body. Then another. And _another_.

Jack is clawing at the bedding, his breath coming in sharp wheezes. He has lifted his head and is now staring at Gabriel wide-eyed.

“What are you doing?” he asks, voice gone high and pathetic. Despite that, he is not trying to get away. Gabriel pushes Jack’s jacket up and out of the way, staring at the bulging belly. There are scars here, too, that hadn’t been there years ago… but it is still tightly muscled – and now distended from the orbs of smoke he has pushed into him.

It looks obscene. He presses another orb against Jack’s hole, but pauses when Jack makes a sound like a dog that got kicked. He looks up into his face; it is slack and wide-eyed. He looks honestly distressed.

“What.” He asks flatly, then adds more nasty: “Don’t like it anymore? You used to go wild over it when we were young.”

“I missed you too, Gabriel…”

Gabriel can feel his face going slack, a muscle in his cheek jumping.

“...what? What are you talking about?”

“I missed you… so damn much. All those years. All the time.” Jack’s voice is trembling all weird, as if he really is going to start bawling any second now. “I want all of you. Everything. Anything you want to give.”

Gabriel slowly lowers his hand, the ball of smoke on his palm dissipating into nothingness.

“What are you talking about?” he asks again, but damn… damn it feels good to hear this. To hear this from _Jack_.

Jack extends his arms to him, begging for his closeness. Gabriel moves before thinking about it too much. He presses his face against Jack’s throat again, baring down on that full, distended belly of his. Jack wheezes, fingers scrabbling against Gabriel’s back.

Gabriel smirks quietly, slowly moving his hand to gather that last smoke ball after all.


End file.
